Man Down
by hepaxedemos
Summary: One of the team is in the fight of his life and the others are left trying to function normally in the aftermath of his shooting, hunting the person who may have killed their friend.
1. Chapter 1

Colby sank to his knees, his hand pressed into his side

Colby sank to his knees, his hand pressed into his side. The pain was spreading up his chest. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to shut out the sounds of gunfire and shouting that filled the air around him. He focussed on his breathing. It was coming in short, shallow gasps, each one sending pain across his rib cage. He took a slow breath in, tentatively filling his lungs bit by bit to assess the pain. His focus was abruptly broken by someone yelling his name in his ear, his eyes snapped open, but everything was blurry. It cleared slowly and he could see his partner kneeling next to him, feel his hand on his shoulder. "David" he gasped.

"you ok man?" Granger grimaced and lifted his hand away from his side. His hand, vest and shirt were soaked red.

"oh man, hold on." He turned away from the wounded agent for a moment. "Some help over here!" he roared.

Don allowed himself some quiet satisfaction as the meth dealers were dragged from the house in cuffs. He turned when he heard Sinclair's voice yell. He saw the agent kneeling next to someone who was obscured by a car. Don, glanced back at the crime scene, things seemed to be secure there. He ran towards Sinclair who was clearly in some distress, that could mean only one thing, one of the team was hurt. As he rounded the car he saw Granger on his knees, on hand on the road, the other clasped to his side. Sinclair was on the phone.

"Colby? Colb, lemme see, c'mon" Don gently pulled Granger's hand from his side, oh god, there was a lot of blood. "I'm gonna need to put some pressure on this" He pushed his hands onto the wound. Colby gasped and moved away.

"God, Don." Colby didn't get to finish his sentence, an ambulance pulled up next to them , directed by Sinclair's frantic waving. The paramedics were at the stricken agent's side in a moment, allowing Don to pull back.

"It's gone through his vest – armour piercing rounds." Don looked back at the house. "Jesus" his mind played out all the possible outcomes there could have been including most of the team lying in street in pools of their own blood.

"I'm gonna ride with him in the bus" Sinclair said, cutting through Don's nightmare.

"sure, sure, I'll round up the others and meet you there." He turned to Granger who was being loaded into the ambulance "you hang in there, We'll see you in a minute."

Colby felt himself being lifted into the air, and far, far away, he could hear David's voice. Why was David so far away? He needed him here now. He was fighting for breath. God, this was the freighter all over again, that sensation of drowning. Wjhy did everything come back to that damn boat? He could feel himself drifting downwards. Some sleep, everything would be better after some sleep.

By a bizarre twist of traffic, Don and Megan reached the hospital at the same time as the ambulance. A female doctor was already by the back doors listening to the paramedics report.

Colby was very pale and he was barely conscious as he was wheeled into resus. The doctor in a calm and measured voice directed the nurses to cut off his shirt. Don stood by the door, not wanting to get in the way, but not wanting to leave his man either. Sinclair was at the head of the gurney, talking in low, urgent tones to Colby. The doctor gently pushed David out the way as she shone a light into Colby's eyes. In a moment his was stripped to the waist and wired to all sorts of machines.

"Sats are dropping" announced one of the nurses. The doctor looked up at one of the monitors and issued some instructions to her staff. How could she remain so calm? Don wondered. "Pressure is…." Don didn't hear the rest as one of the other medics yelled across the room "stopped breathing!" The doctor glared at him as she moved back to Colby's head. She removed the mask and bent her head to his. After a second or two she lifted her head up.

"Let's intubate, phone the OR let them know to expect us. Lets also get another 5 units up just in case" She gently tilted Colby's head and slipped a tube down his throat in a fluid motion. "Bag him" she gestured with her head at the younger doctor.

"I can't get the air in" he said after a few moments. The doctor frowned and began to listen to Colby's chest. She pulled the stethoscope away from her ears and wound it back round her neck.

"Chest drain please" Don's stomach lurched, he knew enough to see that Colby's condition was deteriorating . He looked at the clock on the wall, they had been there for 5 minutes, god was that all? When he turned back, the doctor was making an incision in Colby's chest. She tossed a blood soaked gauze to the floor. Don's eyes followed it as it splatted gently on the floor. The floor around the trolley was covered in blood stained pads and gauzes. Granger was losing so much blood. Don, feeling his stomach flutter; he closed his eyes and rubbed a hand across them. When he opened them again, Colby was being wheeled out of resus with Sinclair close behind. He touched the arm of the doctor as she passed. She turned and smiled. "He is stable enough to go up to the OR. Just a second please" and gestured for him to leave the room. He closed the door and watched as she turned to the younger medic. She was smiling all the time that she spoke but she could see that he was getting a dressing down for something. She ended by patting his shoulder and then she came back out to meet Don. She saw that he had been watching the exchange.

"Interns always think they are on an episode of ER, with lots of shouting and panic." Megan and David walked over to join them, Charlie, Amita, Larry and Alan were not far behind, the call had clearly gone out. "They won't let me up there" said David, exasperated and frustrated that he could no more to help his partner.

"You'll be allowed up when he comes out of the ER"

"How is he doc?" Don asked

"GSW to the lower chest, From what I can tell it hit no major organs or blood vessels but it caused his chest to fill with fluid, making it hard for his lungs and heart to expand and contract. We have relieved the pressure by inserting a tube and draining off the fluid" It is straightforward enough to repair. My main concern is the amount of blood he has lost. This will make surgery risky at best"

David turned away and kicked a nearby gurney. The doctor looked at the worried faces round her. This was clearly a close knit team. "Look, my name is Dr Taylor, if you need anything, get them to page me. I'll see about getting one of you upstairs to be with him when he is moved to recovery"

Time crawled past. Don had stopped looking at the clock an hour ago. He had tried talking to David, but knew that the agent was locked in his own private hell. He looked at the faces of the people around him - his team, even if some weren't officially his – and saw the same look on all of them; fear and worry. He wondered if Colby appreciated how much he meant to the people sitting in those chairs. The number of times Colby had put his life on the line for each and every one of them. The man was brave, of that there was no doubt. Charlie's trust metric had proved to the team how much he meant but had they conveyed that to Colby? It was an unspoken thing surely, everyone, knew they were valued, loved even. Don's mind was racing; thoughts about Colby, Charlie, the whole team tumbling over each other. The loud click as the door to the OR opened brought his mind back to the present. A green gowned doctor was looking at them all, clearly looking for someone to speak to.

"How is he?" Don spoke first. It was his responsibility after all, he was team leader. His heart was in his mouth as he waited for the surgeon to reply.

"He is being moved to recovery. Things were difficult for a while, as he was so weak form the loss of blood but he expect him to make a full recovery" Don felt his knees sag slightly before he recovered his composure. He thanked the doctor and looked for David, but Colby's partner was already on his way to recovery.

David stared through the glass of Colby's room. The stricken agent lay surrounded by tubes and machines. Anger rose through his body as he looked at Colby's pale face. Sinclair wanted to punch, he wanted to get the people, the man who had done this to his friend and punch him until his face ran red. Make him bleed the way he had made Colby bleed. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. Without even turning round, he knew it was Megan. She always knew what to say, when to be there and when to give people space. He turned to look at her. To his surprise, she had tears in her eyes.

"We're going to get something to eat. Join us" her hand pulled slightly at his shoulder as she withdrew it.

"He needs to rest and so do we" she added. David turned to look at his partner again. Megan was right. Colby was going to be in hospital for some time and he intended to be right there for him.

"Be right back" he said softly, and then he headed out of the door to join the others.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning the mood in the office was subdued

The next morning the mood in the office was subdued. Don looked at the tired, worried faces of his team. Despite the fact that he had sent them home to get some rest he doubted very much that any of them had slept much, if at all. He took a deep breath. Time to be the leader they expected and needed.

"Where are we?" he asked to the room in general. No one spoke "C'mon people, we have an on going investigation. If anyone needs some leave speak up and I'll arrange it, otherwise, get in the game." He hated being so hard on them but he needed them to be at their best. If these perps were carrying armour piercing rounds, there could be no more mistakes.

"Ballistics confirmed that it was an amour piercing round that injured Colby" Megan spoke up, her comments mirroring Don's thoughts. Don ran his hands through his hair and looked briefly out of the window, his mind racing.

"Ok, where the hell did these clowns get hardware like that from? This, this isn't something you pick up off the street." David stood up.

" Perhaps they were being bank rolled by someone or something else?"

"Yeah" added Megan, "It wouldn't be the first time a meth lab has been used as a cash producer for something bigger"

I'll check out the sheets of the ones we picked up today, see if that sheds any light on who they are"

"Ok, OK, that's a start. I'll get some of them in here, start poking around and see what we can find. Identify the rock that these low lifes crawled out from under"

Colby's mouth was dry and he was hot, really, really hot. He opened his eyes and looked out across the desert. He blinked and then looked again. The scene was the same. Desert stretching out in front of him, with some hills, their outlines hazy in the distance. It was the same for the other 359 degrees. God, he was in Afghanistan. He almost jumped to his feet before his training took over and he hunkered lower into the ground. As he pressed himself to the floor he realised that he was wearing standard issue body armour and desert fatigues. And he was alone. How had he got separated from his unit? He scanned the horizon for any sign of life but there was nothing out there that he could see. Confusion and disorientation swept over him. He rolled onto his back and gulped at the air. _Think, Granger, think!_ Then he heard it, ever so faint and far, far away - voices on the wind. He strained to hear them, willing the blood in his ears to stop pounding. Suddenly, his vision started to falter and then there was darkness.

Don sat staring at the monitors linked to the interrogation room mentally compiling a profile of the person sat before him. The light from the monitors cast an eerie light on the FBI agent's face as he studied the young man sat in the next room. Don was looking for a way in. Letting David have five minutes alone with the monitors off had crossed his mind more than once, but he couldn't be sure that what David left would be able to give up anything worthwhile. The guy didn't look much; shaved head, arms full of tattoos. What was clear was that whoever he was, he wasn't the brains behind the meth lab operation. He sighed and went next door, motioning for Megan to follow him.

Megan put a hand on his arm before they opened the door.

"David got a hit" she said quietly, glancing quickly at the man sat at the table. "Blake Simpson, did four years in a state prison for armed robbery. He was a member of the Aryan Clan in prison, bit like the Brotherhood. Got the tattoos to prove it.. He's not gonna like me and he is certainly not gonna like David"

"Bearing in mind that he was a member of a crew that shot his partner, I don't think that David is going to be too enamoured with him either. Let's see what we can get out of him" Don said. Megan motioned towards the large object Don was carrying.

"Are you sure about that?" Don didn't reply as he opened the door to interrogation.

Simpson greeted their arrival with a barely disguised sneer. He looked Megan up and down and then licked his lips suggestively."

"Oh please" she laughed and went to stand behind him. Don sat down in the chair opposite.

"So, Blake, from armed robbery to full time chemist; that is an interesting career change." Simpson said nothing. He pushed his chair away from the table and leaned back in his chair.

"So, I'm curious, is this a Clan thing, I mean it sounds right up their street; drugs, guns, interstate crime. I guess you can now add the murder of a federal agent to your sheet. Don placed the bullet proof vest that he had been carrying onto the table. He turned it so that the hole and the dried blood were clearly visible to the suspect. " Simpson merely smiled and then yawned. Don clenched his fist under the table. He was finding it hard to keep his temper in check. He looked at the round face in front of him and then at Colby's vest and in his mind's eye saw himself smashing Simpson's face into a bloody mess. This guy was looking to push his buttons and if he wasn't careful, he was going to succeed. Movement to his right, outside the room caught his attention. David was trying to catch his eye. He looked back at Simpson – this was a waste of time, this guy was more afraid of his bosses than he was of anything the FBI could throw at him and time inside would be like one happy reunion.

He stood up and he and Megan left the room. He caught up with David moments later. "What's up?"

"Don, Colby's taken a turn for the worse. Charlie rang from the hospital. He said that the doctors wont tell him anything. I need to get over there."

"We'll all go" Don replied, putting a reassuring hand on the agent's shoulder.

Colby woke up with the sun beating down on him. He groaned and rolled back onto his front. He felt around in the dirt for his rifle, trying not to lift his head, or move around too much. Relief washed over him as he felt his fingers brush against the metal. He dragged it towards him and then risked lifting his head. The sun was beating down on his head and back, he felt like he was slowly cooking in his body armour. Nothing new there then. He lay still as the minutes passed, trying to decide what to do next. Nothing moved in his line of sight. Thoughts raced through his head. What he couldn't understand was why he was alone in the desert and more to the point where the hell was he? He didn't remember heading out anywhere. No missions came to mind. He looked around again, grimacing against the glare of the sun. Sweat was tricking out from under his helmet and into his eyes. He winced as the rough material of his fingerless gloves scratched across his eyes. He reached a decision, if he was going to get out of this unscathed, he needed to start walking. Lying in the grit and dust wasn't going to help. He raised himself cautiously to his knees, Jeez, this armour was heavier than he remembered. He stopped at that thought. _Remembered_? What an odd term to use. He grunted as he got to his feet his boots kicking up dust around him. He looked all the way around him, his hand shielding his eyes. Great. Heat haze, desert and mountains on all sides. He contemplated taking his helmet and body armour off but decided against it. Picking a random direction he set off at a steady pace.

The ride to the hospital seemed to take an age, every red light was against them, every idiot driver was out on the road. David had wanted to drive but Don had insisted. Just as well as his mind was anywhere but the road. The doctor in the hospital had taken their sweet time coming out to talk to them as well. Colby's bed lay empty, he had been moved up to ICU. The door clicked as the doctor walked in.

"Are you Mr Granger's family?" he asked looking round the odd collection of people in the room.

"It's Agent Granger and no we aren't. " Don started, stepping into the doctor's personal space as he spoke. Alan put a hand on his arm to restrain him, he knew how intimidating his son could be without even realising it.

"His family is in Idaho, they are on their way here. In the meantime, we are the closet thing he has."

"I I I'm sorry" stammered the doctor, taking a step back away from Don who was glaring at him. "I can't talk about a patient unless you are a member of his immediate family."

"What do you want us to say? These are the people who he regards as family. Hell, I think of him as a son. So you wanna stop with the immediate family business and tell these people who love and care about him what the hell is going on." Alan paused, waiting for the doctor's response. Don hadn't even realised that his father was here, but he was glad that he was. He must have been with Charlie and Amita when they stayed at the hospital last night. He stole a glance at his brother and his girlfriend, the dark circles round their eyes spoke volumes about the type of night that they had had.

The doctor had the good grace to realise when he was beaten. He shoulders slumped forward as he began to explain what had happened.

Mr, I mean Agent Granger," he quickly added as he caught Don's eye. "has developed septicaemia."

"Wha, what does that mean, I mean is he gonna be OK?"

"Septicaemia is an invasion of the bloodstream by bacteria. In Agent Granger's case they probably entered through the bullet wound. Often the bacteria live harmlessly on the skin. He developed a sudden fever early this morning and blood cultures confirmed it. We are treating him with ice packs and IV antibiotics."

"What is survival rate?" A typical Charlie question, thought Don.

"In someone who has no underlying diseases, the mortality rate is about 5%"

"Can I see him?" David asked. Don could see that this was killing him. It seemed to be obvious to the doctor too.

"Normally, I would say no, but if one of you would like to sit with him for a while, I think that it would help, we could make an exception until his family arrives"

Colby's room was quiet and cool. Monitors bleeped gently in the background, David had no idea what they all did and frankly he didn't want to know. His partner lay flat on his back in the centre of the room, the focus of the bleeps and pulses. Sinclair tentatively approached the bed, keeping his footsteps light, although why he didn't know. His partner's pale face frightened him. There was sweat on his brow, even though he was surrounded by ice packs.

"Hey Colby, it's me." He pulled up a chair and sat in it. He planned to stay for as long as it took.


	3. Search for leads

_Hey Colby, it's me__. _David? Colby snapped his head round as the voice spoke, expecting to see Sinclair. As his eyes focussed on the face in front of him he staggered backwards in shock, almost tripping over his own feet. He raised his rifle to his shoulder and then lowered it slightly.

"Dwayne?" his own voice sounded so far away. _It couldn't be Dwayne, this guy has a bullet hole in his head._ Nausea swept over him as he stared at the bloody mess on Dwayne's head. His heart began to pound and he realised that he was frightened. Nothing was right here. His unit was missing, there was no one around, and Dwayne appeared to be, well, dead. He stopped. Why didn't that sound as ludicrous as it should? He began to hyperventilate, panic rising in him. This was wrong, all wrong. He could feel the world sliding around him as he fought back the urge to vomit. Blackness crowded in from all sides but before it completely enveloped him he heard Dwayne's voice once more, "it's always me saving your ass. You shouldn't be here Granger, go home.

David walked into the conference room as Don was updating the team. Don looked surprised to see him.

"I thought you were at the hospital?" he asked

"I got kicked out. They don't like crowds in the ICU and anyway, Colby is out of it. I'll head over later tonight."

"How's he doing?"

"No change. The surgery went well. They're treating the septicaemia with antibiotics and ice packs." Sinclair kept his sentences short and fact based. He needed to stay focussed if he was going to get the people that did this.

"Sure, sure. Take a seat. We are looking at this guy Simpson again. Charlie is on his way over to lend a hand." Don gestured at the screens as he spoke. Simpson's rap sheet was on the boards, as was his photo, the shaved head held at an arrogant angle for the camera.

"I vote we do a house to house, see what we can pick up from the neighbours." A voice suggested from the back of the room. David turned to see the familiar face of Liz looking back at him. He felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the junior agent, she was always called in when things went sideways and she was clearly feeling awkward in her role as Colby's replacement. He decided to lend her some support.

"Yeah, I'm up for that. Never know, somebody may have heard or seen something that can give us some direction on who these guys are and who is bankrolling them"

"OK" replied Don, nodding his head as he spoke. He was keen to get his team back out there; they needed to focus on something other than their friend. He stood up from his perch on the corner of the table. "Liz and David, pull together a small team to do house to house and dress properly for the occasion, this is not a nice neighbourhood." He turned to Megan, "We'll put some more pressure on the youngest of our perps - Simpson, see what crawls out of the cracks"

Incredibly, the street that the meth house was on had returned to its natural rhythm and flow. David paused for a moment after he stepped out of the car. In his mind's eye he could see it all laid out in front of him; the cars, LAPD uniforms… his mind stilled as he looked around, then he turned slightly and walked over to where Colby had lain. He crouched down and touched the tarmac; it was warm on his fingertips, heated by the sun. Colby had been on his hands and knees here, head up looking at him, blood spilling onto the black top. David could still see the blood stains on the ground, although the sun had already begun to bleach them away. He put his hand on top of the dark shapes on the road, looking for some connection with his stricken partner. The fact that there was only the feel of tarmac - no tackiness – surprised him and snapped him out of his reverie. _Pull yourself together!_ He pulled his hand back and stood up. He looked around for Liz and saw that she was maintaining a discreet and respectful distance by rummaging around in the back of the car. He dusted his hands off and walked towards her.

"let's do this" he said as he walked towards the first house on their list.

Don looked wearily at the skinhead in front of him and then at the pamphlet in front of him. Aryan Clan. Jeez, were there not enough bogey men in the world without these clowns trying to invent some more. Anti everything rhetoric – hate filled statement based on fear and ignorance.

"Wow, you guys – everything and everyone is out to get us, right? I don't see any pointy hoods in these pictures though" Don pushed the paper towards Simpson.

"Got a right to protect what is ours Freedom and democracy"

"Oh please" Megan interjected. "You deal in meth and you want to give a lecture on citizenship?"

"Look, bottom line, you are going back to prison, you can't avoid that. But we can make things more comfortable for you." Don leaned towards Simpson.

"I don't need you to do me no favours. I've got people that will look after me on the inside, see that I am alright." Megan stepped forwards and leaned on the table as Don spoke.

"Your little gang shot a federal agent. What makes you think that you will be safe anywhere? The wrong door left open at the wrong time. You get put on detail with the wrong people. Mistakes can happen in prison." For the first time since Simpson had been arrested Don saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He was only twenty one after all and cut off from the people who normally told him what to say and do. Simpson's eyes flitted across to Megan and then to Don. Don decided to turn the screw a little more. He leaned in until his face was right into Simpson's.

"It was my man, my friend that was shot and I will personally feed you to the other prison gangs unless you give me something. I have agents lining up to have a go at you and your friends. Just give me a reason." He stayed absolutely still, not moving his eyes from man in front of him. Simpson leaned back and cast his gaze down towards the table.

"I can't, they'll kill me" he whispered.

"Who will?" asked Megan. She had moved back to her previous position behind the suspect.

"You can throw me to the other gangs in prison" he said, looking Don once again, "but whatever they do, won't be nothing on what those guys will do if they think I talked to you. They are pros man. The real deal" He put his head in his hands, rubbing the stubble on his scalp with his palms as if to soothe himself. Don pushed back his chair and stood up. Years of experience told him that he wasn't going to get any further here. If he couldn't crack this one, it was unlikely any of the others in custody would. He needed leverage. He just hoped that Liz and David managed to find some.


	4. Alan and Colby

_I think I'm getting the hang of the formatting of this thing! I don't own the characters or show etc. I just like to write._

Alan woke with a start, the gentle beep of the machines had worked their soporific magic and he had nodded off in the chair he had pulled up next to Colby's bed. He had driven over to the hospital when he found out that David had gone back to work; he didn't want Colby to wake up and find that no one was there.

The book Alan had been reading had slid off his knees and onto the floor, landing open at the pages he had been reading. He picked it up and placed it on the small table beside the bed, making sure he folded down the corner of the page he had gotto. He didn't really know why he had started reading the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to the combat veteran turned FBI agent but he suspected that there was a little of those boys' character in Granger . As he scanned the young agent's face for any signs of change, all traces of the person that Colby was were gone; the sense of humour, the loyalty and the courage were all hidden beneath the feverish pallor and oxygen mask. Colby's pale face was turned slightly away from him, his hair plastered across his forehead by the sweat his body was producing as it tried to purge the poisons flooding his body. Alan sighed and took the boy's hot hand in his own. Inwardly he laughed at himself 'the boy'? The guy was over thirty! But Alan, father of two boys, couldn't help himself; he had realised more than once that he regarded Don's team as almost family and he had a particular soft spot for Colby. Maybe it was because he felt a need to try to fill the gap in Colby's life caused by the loss of his father, or maybe it was because he saw something in Colby that no one else around him saw. There was something pushed deep down out of sight in Colby, Alan caught glimpses of it occasionally in his eyes. It was the same look that he had seen in young men returning from the war in the late 60's. Some men back then had broken, becoming empty shells living on the streets and dying in the gutter. Others had pushed it down, burying it out of sight but never completely out of mind and then had gone on to rebuild their lives. Colby never really talked to any of them, except David once, about Afghanistan, but Alan had caught glimpses of it now and then and knowing that Colby had no father to share things with had made the older man feel the need to take a surrogate father's role.

The door opened and a nurse walked in, followed by an older woman.

"Mr Eppes, this is Mrs Granger" she turned to Colby's mother. "Mr Eppes has been sitting with your son" Mrs Granger, who had been looking at her son, turned her head and smiled weakly at Alan.

"Thank you," was all she said as she reached out and brushed some of the damp hair off his forehead.

"How is he?" she asked the nurse without turning her head.

"The surgery went well, obviously the main concern is the septicaemia. I'll get a doctor to come and talk to you" the nurse turned to Alan. "I'm sorry Mr Eppes but we are going to have to ask you to leave." She smiled in sympathy at him as she gestured towards the door.

"Right, right." Alan picked up his coat that he had slung over the back of the chair. He looked at Colby's mother, "if you need anything Mrs Granger…." He left the sentence hanging.

"Could you get me a coffee please. It's been a long journey. And it's Alicia by the way. Anyone who has looked after my son doesn't need to call me Mrs Granger" Alan smiled, Colby sounded just like his mom, the same accent, the same inflections in his speech. Alan closed the door gently behind him leaving Colby loving care of his mother.


	5. Chapter 5

David sighed as he knocked on the door of the house, he had lost count of the number of doors he had pounded on today. Liz was a few steps behind him, peering in through the front window, trying to see if the house was occupied. He knocked a little harder, taking out some of his frustrations on the wood in front of him. This case felt like it was going nowhere fast; since the shooting the people they had arrested were getting close to being released. He looked across at Liz and called to her

"This is a non starter" he turned away from the door and looked across at the next house. God, the houses in this street were all identical, with the exception of the meth house with its now barred windows and barricaded doors. He began to retrace his steps back down the front porch stairs.

"Excuse me?" a small voice called to the agents from the side of the house. Sinclair looked up to see a small, elderly lady, walking with a cane limping towards them.

"I was out the back and I didn't hear you at the door. Can I help you?" she eyed them both suspiciously and David couldn't blame her. Living in such close proximately to a meth house must have given her a sixth sense for trouble.

"We're FBI ma'am" he pulled his badge out and flipped it open towards her s that she could see the gold shield. Her shoulders sagged with obvious relief and Sinclair felt a pang of sympathy for her.

"Is this about the house?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am. We are asking round to see if anyone can tell us anything about the house or the people in it"

"I saw what happened yesterday" she gestured towards the house and then the road as she spoke "so many men with guns, cars, radios, it was so loud. You see it on TV but it is never that loud on TV." She looked at David and her face softened. "I saw the young man get shot. I've never seen anything like that before; don't think that I'll forget it in hurry either. He spun round when he got shot. I didn't know what had happened at first, then I saw him fall to his knees. That's when I guessed that he had been hurt." She paused looking closely at David's face, searching his eyes. "He's your friend isn't he?"

Looking into the old woman's eyes, David saw sympathy and understanding there. Suddenly, everything that he had pushed down inside for the last 24 hours welled up inside and came flooding up. As the tears pricked at his eyes up, he bit down on his lip and looked away, fighting desperately to hold it together. Liz saw distress he was in and stepped in to give him space.

" Did you notice anything unusual about the house before yesterday?" she asked.

"Well, there were a lot of people coming and going" the old woman offered tentatively.

"Did you notice anything unusual about any of them?" Liz asked, glancing across at Sinclair who had moved to the edge of the path.

"Not to look at, they all looked the same. They had no hair and were covered in tattoos." Liz flipped open her notebook and started writing. Eager to help and seeing that the agents were taking her seriously, the old woman carried on. "All except two. They looked normal, although they were big men not fat, just well built – bigger than your friend who got shot. They just sounded funny though, not American" she added

"Do you know where they were from?" David turned as he spoke. Liz looked up from her note taking to look at him and saw that he had found his equilibrium again.

"No, but I think they were from somewhere English speaking – Australia, England, some where like that" Liz nodded at Sinclair and put her book away as she headed a little further down the path. As she did so, she took out her phone and began speaking into it. David put his hand on the old woman's arm.

Mrs…." He let his voice trail off, waiting for her to fill in the blank. Sure enough, she was only too eager too be helpful.

"Mrs Egremont" she offered.

"Mrs Egremont, would you be willing to talk to a sketch artist? See if we can get an idea of what these men you saw looked like" She nodded in response.

Liz walked back towards them. "The artist will be over in 20 minutes" She lowered her voice as she spoke to David. "I got this, why don't you head off for an hour, clear your head, go to the hospital." Sinclair nodded, he wasn't about to deny that he needed some time. Things had happened so quickly since last night and he felt like he was suffocating, trapped by the enormity of what had happened, he needed space, some time alone to get his head right. He patted Liz on the shoulder as he headed to the car.

"I'll see you back at the office"

David sat in the car, staring ahead at the entrance to the hospital, fingers tapping the steering wheel. Part of him wanted to get out of the car and head in through the front door, the other, the other wanted to…. His mind trailed off, not wanting to voice the thoughts of driving off without getting out and seeing his partner first. A knock at the window dragged him sharply back to the now, choking his thoughts off. He turned and to his surprise saw Alan Eppes at the passenger door window. Sinclair unlocked the door to let his boss's father in. Alan was silent as he climbed in; he sat in the seat and stared out of the front window at the same entrance David had been looking at only moments ago. The silence in the car was uncomfortable and heavy and Sinclair didn't really now where to put himself, he shifted in his seat a couple of times as he toyed with the idea of speaking first but he didn't really know what to say or how to start. He was searching for any sort of opening gambit when Alan started to speak. He didn't look at David as he spoke and his voice was low and quiet, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere outside the car.

"It's funny how we rely on people without even realising it. It's only when they are not around that we understand how strong they were. When they are gone, we suddenly feel cast adrift, our anchor is missing and we are lost in a sea that we thought we were successfully navigating." He turned to Sinclair. "You have to be strong and not run away, not avoid this. He is your friend and he needs you." David hung his head, feeling ashamed, almost admonished by Alan.

"He got shot and I didn't even notice" he said, more to the floor than Alan. "He is my partner and I am supposed to look out for him and there was so much going on and he is normally just there, at my side but this time when I turned round he was on his knees on the ground." He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, to slow himself down. Alan stayed silent, understanding the need for the man to relieve himself of all of this. Sinclair looked up at his boss's father,

"I keep letting him down, I just keep letting him down. When he nearly died on the boat, when I found out what he had been through, what they had done to him, I swore that I would be there for him." He stopped, conscious that he had been doing all the talking. As he did so Alan reached across and put his hand on his shoulder. He pulled David round so that he was looking directly at him.

"Listen to me, what he went through on that ship was awful, but it was not your fault. Do you hear me? Who saved his life that day? Who? Oh sure, Charlie worked out where he might be, but it was you that actually saved his life, got is heart beating again. And this, this is not your fault. Everyday, I try not to think about what might happen to you boys out there. You all knew that this was a real possible outcome the day you signed up to the Bureau, so did Colby." He let go of the agent's shoulders. "Don't be so hard on yourself. What Colby would want you to do right now is be the partner he knows and trusts. Get on with the job, Find the people that did this and prevent them from doing it to anybody else." He paused. "You think Colby is strong; who do you think Colby relies on?" He sat back in his seat and gestured towards the road. "Now, take me home. His mother is with him and I need a shower and to get to some sleep."

Sinclair sat for a few moments then, without saying a word, put the car into gear almost automatically. It was only as he released the brake he that looked across at the man in the passenger seat and spoke, "Thank you" he said as the car slid out of it's parking space and he meant it. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Things he could never have said to his co workers had come flooding out and he felt better for it. There would be time to see Colby later, he had to believe that, and when he did see him, it would be with the news that his assailants had been captured.


	6. Moving Forward

By the time that Sinclair got back to the office, Liz was already back with the sketch artist's image. As he looked at the computer image on the screen in front of him he could hear footsteps approaching. He looked up and straight into the face of his boss. Don grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to one side.

"How're you doing?"

Sinclair shrugged him off, wondering if Alan had spoken to his eldest son about their talk in the car. He fervently hoped that he hadn't as he had put his open show of emotion down to a moment of weakness. A shout from Liz and Megan saved him from having to explain himself further. Megan came running over,

"We've got a hit on one of the men that Mrs Egremont described. He's South African. A Kurt de Villiers."

"Whadda we know about the guy?" Don asked, letting go of David's arm, although not before Megan had noticed the gesture of tenderness from their boss. They walked towards the war room together, Megan passing the file she was carrying to the other two agents. She spoke as Don and David scanned the contents of the manila folder.

"Not much, seems like he was in the South African army during the Angolan War. Disappeared from sight after he was discharged. Turned up in the UK for a brief stint in the late 90's and then fell off the radar again."

"Ex military eh? That could explain the impressive arsenal these guys were carrying" Don paused and the room was silent for a moment, He took a deep breath, it was time to point out the elephant in the room and if no one else was going to do then it was up to him. He voiced the thought that they all shared.

"Shame we don't have Colby at the moment, this is his area of expertise. Let's see if we can get hold of Edgerton, maybe he can shed some light on our South African here." To his relief, as he spoke the small group of people in the room seemed to relax a little. His few short words had had the desired effect, releasing them all, making it ok to talk about their fallen friend, to appreciate that he was gone for the moment. Don began to delegate jobs to the team, sending them out to pull in as much information as they could muster on the facts they had before them. He looked across at his senior agent, he was particularly worried about David, the agent seemed to be too well contained, too calm. He decided to keep him the office with him for now.

"David, I'm going to call Charlie in to work with the face pattern recognition programme we have see if he can refine it to id the other guy Mrs Egremont saw. I need you to work with him, the sooner we get a fix on both these guys the closer we will be to bringing them in" David grimaced and then nodded. He knew that it was not his place to question his boss's orders but he was also not naïve enough to think that his latest assignment was anything more than an exercise designed to keep him under Don's watchful eye. As he headed towards the door Don spoke,

"Listen up, we all know that these people are packing some pretty serious hardware. We are already a man down and I don't want to end the day with anyone else in the hospital or worse. You, you find ANYTHING worthy of note, you phone it in and WAIT for instructions" As he finished speaking, Charlie poked his head round the door.

"Is now a bad time?" Charlie looked with concern at his brother's face.

"No, no, now is great. What do you have?"

"Well, two things actually. I took a look at your software and I think that I can make it much more sensitive. Of course it would be better if we had more data to work on, security footage, that sort of thing, but the sketch is a good start." He started to pull papers out of the briefcase that he had been carrying.

"That's great, what's the second thing?" Don knew that he was being a little sharp but at this moment in time he didn't care, his brother would just have to put up with it, there were bigger things at stake today.

"Err" Charlie got flustered and began fussing through the sheaf of papers in his hand. He hated it when his brother got snappy, it sent him straight back to high school when Don seemed to be in a constant state of irritation with his younger sibling. "I was thinking that if de Villiers is South African, he must have come in through the airport system. If that is the case, we can track how many times he has passed through and if he has travelled with anyone else. That might give us an idea of who the second man is" Don looked again at the sketch of the second suspect, unfortunately, the old lady had not really seen much of this man, he had mostly been obscured by de Villiers. This was probably a better shot than anything else they had planned.

"Yeah, yeah, Ok, you do that, David will give you hand."

It was a good two hours before David and Charlie emerged from their small huddle in the war room.

"Charlie thinks he has something" David looked tired but optimistic.

"Great, let's hear it" Don stood up and followed them into the dimly lit room.

"Well, we re-programmed some of the recognition software to start with, it was way more basic that I thought, and then we ran the face Mrs E had come up with but there were no hits. Then David came up with the idea of widening the search to include sea ports as well as airport security.

"I thought that if these guys were interested in staying off the radar then they would probably avoid the airports, even the smaller private ones" David chimed in.

"Right, right, they gotta know that since 9/11 the security in those places has been beefed up" Don leaned over his brother's shoulder to look at the face in the picture on the screen. There was a grainy picture of a man leaning in towards the wall the camera was mounted on, the camera positioned above his head.

"Is that an ATM camera?" he asked.

"Yep. It's from an ATM at the Port of Los Angeles. After David suggested we cast the net wider we tried the port and got lucky almost straight away. This is from a week ago."

"Are we sure that is him?"

"As sure as we can be. The coding I put into the software made it more sensitive like I said. Imagine a…" Don tuned out as his brother drew one of his analogies between his complex math and the everyday world. He stared at the image in front of him, trying to image it in flesh colours, alive and animated. He brought his thoughts back to the room in time to hear his brother finishing his comparison, "…It is using more verification points and is a lot faster than it was before"

"Right, let's run that face, see if we can get a name. I'm willing to bet that if the computer threw out de Villiers' name it will also find us one for this guy as well."

Colby was close to tears. He knew that something was badly wrong but he couldn't put his finger on it. He fingered the trigger of his rifle and looked out across the street. He was in a small town but there was no one else around. He was completely alone again just as he had been in the desert. That was the other thing, he had no memory of leaving the desert or arriving at the town and where the hell were the people? He slid down the wall he was leaning on until he was sat in the dust, his helmet rattling against the rough render as he lowered himself to the ground. He leaned his rifle across his knees and then lowered his head until it was resting on the rifle. He closed his eyes and tried to think, tried to clear his head, searching for clarity of thought. In the silence he could hear voices on the wind. He had been hearing them for some time and it was driving him to the edge of panic, this one sounded almost like his mom. He wondered for a brief moment if he had been captured and this was some sort of new torture method. He dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came up, the Taleban didn't have anything that sophisticated.

One overriding thought rose up in his mind. _I wanna go home_ . Go Home, wasn't that what Carter had told him? He snapped his head up. Carter! Carter was dead, he died on the ship. Suddenly, he was hit by a flood of memories whirling round and round in his head, names, places, people; Don, David, Charlie, the FBI, that damn ship, Carter, oh god, Carter. It was all too much, he rolled on to his knees and threw up onto the dirt. He tore his helmet off and lurched to his feet; he began to pull at the straps holding his body armour on, he needed to go home. Something bad had happened and he needed to get home. Carter was right, he didn't belong here. His body armour fell to the floor with a heavy thud and he straightened up and rolled his head, easing out the tension in his neck and shoulders. He eyed the rifle lying on the floor and contemplated picking it up then rejected the idea; none of this - he looked around him at the deserted town- was real, but he was in real trouble and he had a suspicion that if he didn't find a way home he was going to be stuck here forever. Think Granger, think. He needed to get out. He started to walk down the street in the direction of the faint voice on the wind.

Alicia Granger looked up from her silent prayer with a start as her son began to mutter. Since her husband had passed away, she had abandoned God, as he had abandoned her, but at this moment in time, she was willing to do anything, turn to anyone if it meant the safe return of her son. She looked at the comatose man lying on the bed, surrounded by ice packs, drips and monitors and leaned in closer.

"Colby, it's mom. Can you hear me? Honey, squeeze my hand if you can hear me." She slipped her small hand into his and gave it a squeeze. With her other hand she brushed the hair off his forehead again. There was no response from Colby, no pressure on her hand.

"C'mon baby, I know that you can do this. Everybody is waiting for you." She swallowed, searching his face for signs of change.

"Damnit Colby Granger! Now you listen to me, I, I," she broke off as the door opened. Alan Eppes was stood at the door. Alan had only met Alicia briefly a few hours ago and had not really paid much attention to her appearance but now he could see the resemblance instantly, she had the same piercing eyes as her son and the strong jaw that made Colby look so intimidating gave the agent's mother a noble air. He couldn't help thinking what a striking woman she was.

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" he waited in the doorway for her response. Alicia stood silent for a moment, then recovered her composure.

"No, not at all. Please, come in" She sat back in her chair and brushed a stray hair out of her face. Alan could see that she was uncomfortable and searched for a way to ease the tension. He could think of nothing other than a simple gesture. He walked over and put his hand on her shoulder as a sign of support. He felt her stiffen briefly and he almost took his hand away, afraid that she would feel he was violating her grief in some way, but then to his surprise she raised her hand and laid it on top of his. They remained still for some while, listening to the gentle bleeps of the machines that kept her son connected to the real world.


	7. mom

Don was sat at his desk lost in thought, passing a pencil through the fingers of his left hand that was propped up on the edge of the table top. His gaze was fixed on a point somewhere in the distance but his focus was very much inwards as he ruminated over the different facts in the case. He threw the pencil down on to the wooden surface and leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair as he did so. He was frustrated at the lack of progress that they were making in finding the people who had shot and almost killed one of his team. He straightened up and pulled himself back towards the desk, one hand reaching for the stack of files in front of him as he did so. He had just opened one when Charlie popped his head over the cubicle wall.

"I hope you have some news buddy cos I'm hitting dead end after dead end here" Don gestured towards the small stack of files with his head.

"Actually, we do. We have a name for the man in the ATM video. Kristofer Van der Burgh."

"Lemme guess, ex South African Army, now most likely a hired gun?"

"You got it." Charlie turned as a voice behind cut into the conversation. David was standing a few steps behind holding a laptop in his arms.

"I called Ian Edgerton, he was over in the valley but is on his way over to lend us a hand." Don raised an eyebrow.

"He is coming to help out?"

"I think it is maybe an army thing, brothers in arms and all that" David managed a weak smile "He was able to tell us that these guys or ones like them are not unknown to ATF, Interpol, that kind of thing"

"So how come these two weren't on our radar?" Don stood up, his heart pounding. This was progress, this was a step closer to putting those bastards behind bars.

"Ian says that these guys are trained to stay off the radar. They keep a low profile, running operations such as meth houses, brothels and gun running, but never actually doing the dirty work. For that they recruit meatheads such as Blake and his friends. They do the hard work whilst the South Africans take the money and should the place get busted they close shop and move on to something else leaving their employees to deal with the fall out." David paused. He tapped a few buttons on the lap top and then turned it so that the screen was facing Don.

"We got even luckier. Turns out that three days ago the water company were doing some routine maintenance on the drains. They have film of our boys entering the house" Don watched as a surprising clear picture showed the two men walking in through the front door.

"How come the water company was filming them?" He was confused.

"They weren't" answered Charlie. "The company use remote cameras to check for leaks, damage, blockages that sort of thing. They usually test the camera equipment above ground. They run the usual tests for light contrast, sharpness and so and for that they need a variety of different light levels and distances so they use street level to do that."

"So we have them entering the house, one that they are probably overseeing, but it still doesn't tell us where to find them" Don thought for a moment. "Let's try the South African Consulate, see if they can shed any light on their fellow countrymen"

Colby sighed and looked at his watch again. He hated routine surveillance jobs. He stared out of the window of the car for a few moments and then sighed again, he had to admit that he was very, very bored. The street lights cast eerie shadows on the sidewalk and building walls, making it hard to determine what was a solid shape and what was simply shadow. He squinted to get a better look at the building across the road, just able to make out the dimly lit doorway. He shuddered slightly at the cool night air and leaned over to open the heating vents on his side of the car. As he felt the warm air tickle his face he turned to speak to David.

"You've not said much since we got here." David turned to look at him, his brown eyes looking directly into Granger's.

"Why are you still here? We need you and you are lying around as if none of this matters. How can you be so selfish, man?

Colby sat back in surprise, "What do you mean?"

David reached across to Colby and held his hand out to his partner. "I'm on my own out there. I need my you back where you belong, I need someone who I know has got my back. Take my hand"

"What are you doing man? When did you get all loved up?" Colby shifted uncomfortably in his seat, backing away ever so slightly from Sinclair.

"I got you man" David said softly. "I saved you once and I can do it again. C'mon man, your mom is waiting. She is going out of her mind with worry." He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never wandering from Colby's eyes. He lifted his hand slightly,

"Take it; take it and come home"

Alicia Granger was dozing lightly in a chair, her fingers wrapped loosely round her son's hand. His hand was so much bigger than hers, but in her mind's eye he was still the little boy falling out of trees and into streams back home in Winchester. She opened her eyes and looked across at Alan Eppes who sat quietly in the corner of the room. They had hardly spoken to each other but she was glad of the company, even battling with the nursing staff to let him stay with her. She looked out of the window at the skyscrapers that stretched as far as she could see. She was so far from home she thought to herself and not just in terms of physical distance.

"I remember one summer, Colby was only ten and he came in to the house and he was sniffing and wiping it on his sleeve as small boys do. I was about to tell him off when I realised that not only was he fighting back tears, he also had a bloodied nose and skinned knees. It took a long time to find out what had happened but the short version is that some older boys had been making fun of our neighbour's boy. He gotten brain damage at birth and although he was a sweet little boy, he walked with a heavy limp and when he spoke it was slurred and difficult to understand." She stopped for a moment and smiled " I found out that Colby had taken the older boys on all by himself for making fun of Stewart, of course they had knocked him to the ground and punched him a few times but I was so proud of him" As she closed her other hand round her son's and gave it a small squeeze she suddenly gasped. She stood up and turned to Alan.

"I think he moved his fingers" she exclaimed "I'm sure…" her next sentence was cut short by a small sound from the bed. Alan rushed to Alicia's side in time to hear Colby whisper one word, - mom.

Colby could hear his mother's voice. It was unmistakable. He felt behind him for the door handle and pulled. His weight opened the door and he tumbled out onto the sidewalk, only his back didn't connect with the hard surface of the tarmac, instead the landing was soft and warm. He couldn't see anything but he could hear a steady beeping noise and his mother's voice. He tried to speak but his mouth felt dry, the muscles tired and weak. His whole body felt tired and sore and there was a dull pain under his ribs. He managed one word before he fell into an exhausted sleep. – mom.


	8. Edgerton

Don and the rest of the team were just on their way to the war room when Don's cell rang. He looked at the caller id display and paled slightly. As he flipped open the phone he turned to the others

"It's Dad" he told them, "Dad, yeah hi." David watched him as he listened to whatever it was Don's father was saying on the other end. He bit his lip and looked out across the office where his gaze settled on Colby's station. His stomach sank as he waited for the news that his partner was dead, another FBI agent killed in the line of duty. He heard Don wind up the conversation and turned to look at his boss, fighting the urge to run out of the building, after all he thought, if no one says the words them it can't happened.

"It's good news" Don reported, a look of relief spreading across his otherwise tired face. "Colby's temperature has dropped back down to normal and he has started responding to external stimuli"

"What does that mean?" asked Megan

"He squeezed his mom's hand and said her name. He hasn't said anything else since as they've left him to sleep but by all accounts, whilst he isn't outta the woods yet, it, it seems like things are looking hopeful" David's shoulder's sagged with relief as Don's words took hold. The desire to run from the building was replaced by one to run to the hospital even though he knew that it would some time before his partner was awake enough to get sense out of him.

Just then, Agent Ian Edgerton, accompanied by Charlie walked into the room.

"I'm glad I caught you" he waved a file at Don and gestured towards the war room.

" I went to the crime scene and had a poke around and I think I found something interesting. Looking at the mock ups and the time frames, there is no way that the bullet that took out Granger came from the meth lab."

"What?" Don took the file off him and started to flick through the pages as Charlie loaded a USB file onto the computer. Ian spoke as the file flickered to life on the main screen. "I called your brother and took him out to the street to help me with the trajectory calculations. A second pair of eyes on these things is always helpful." He stopped and looked at the younger Eppes brother. Charlie began to click on various photo images and computer models as he spoke.

"Colby was hit in the chest, just above the diaphragm" Charlie clicked to a photo of the street with the cars all in place, he pointed to where Colby had been standing just before he had been shot, the spot was obvious to all in the room as the tarmac still had a sticky red stain on it where Colby had bled onto the road. Charlie saw in an instant that nearly all the eyes in the room were transfixed on that one spot. He grimly carried on, unaware of the news that they had just received about their friend.

"There is no way that the shot came from the house. Quite simply the cars are in the way." He gestured with the hand holding the mouse at the two cars in the photgraph

"But it was an amour piercing round, surely it would have just punched a hole in the car and kept on going?" David asked, his curiosity piqued by the images on the screen

"Sure, if Colby hadn't been wearing Kevlar; only one car was in the way but here's the thing, there were two cars in the line of sight from the house to Colby and Colby was wearing standard issue FBI body armour sooo, I calculated the bullet's speed and factoring for wind speed and passage through obsctacles, the bullet should have passed through the cars, running out of steam, if you will, as it did so and hitting Colby but not penetrating the Kevlar"

"So?" Don, looked at his brother a little frustrated that his brother never seemed to get straight to the point. Sensing Don's frustration, Edgerton spoke up.

"I back engineered the bullet's path, it came from this house here" he clicked on the mouse and a non descript house from across the road flashed into view. "There is more" he added. "this was no lucky shot by some brain addled meth head, this was a shot by a pro. There are no other bullets around, I checked the scene and the ballistics report so that means that this was a one shot deal. Someone aimed at Granger and hit him"

Megan stood up as she spoke, "But the doctors said that the bullet entered his chest, not his back and the damage to his body armour backs that up."

"Which means that Colby was looking at the man who almost killed him" Don said quietly. " He must have seen something and turned to check it out; when he did, the guy shot him"

"He never said anything" Megan noted

"I think that he had other things on his mind and anyway, by the time we found out he had been hit the whole show was over bar the mopping up" Don looked at his team. "This changes things, this wasn't some average perp shooting wildly in a desperate attempt to flee the scene, this was a calculated, cold blooded murder attempt and I don't know about you but I'll be damned if they are going to get away with it." He looked back at the picture of the house in which the sniper had stood and in his mind he reconstructed the scene; the view the man would have had from the window as he watched the bust go down, him shouldering his weapon as Granger turned to look at whatever it was he had seen, the twitch of a curtain perhaps, the glint of metal in the lights being flashed about? How long had the gunman deliberated over whether or not to deprive a man of his life. A new thought cut across the rest and he turned to his brother and Ian.

"Wait a minute, if this guy was a pro why didn't he take a head shot? Kill Colby outright? After all, Colby can place him at the scene right?"

"I think I have the answer to that" Ian replied and brought up a close up shot of one of the house walls. "I think Granger got off a shot at this guy, there's a bullet hole in this wall, it's too messed up to make a profile of it and the bullet itself is long gone, another indicator that the shooter is a pro, he took everything with him. It's only a theory and not one I can test, but if Granger did shoot at him he may have been knocked off his line" He grinned at the team, "Obviously, someone of my calibre wouldn't allow that to interfere but then I am 4th best in the country. Not everyone can be this good"

"So this guy watched the bust go down; that suggests that he might be one of the South Africans. Some one with a stack in what happened at the house and the drugs and money that were in it." He paused for a moment as various facts clicked into place in his head. "Right, if we can find our South African friends, then maybe one of them will pop up as the shooter as well. It is time to get these guys off the grid for once and for all."

Ian caught up with Don as he was heading towards the door. The air seemd to crackle a little between them, old tensions and disputes rising to the surface. It had been a long time since the Crystal Hoyle incident and to all intents and purposes they had moved beyond it, but it was also still there, hovering in the background, it's presence felt by both men. Don decided to wait to see what Edgerton had to say.

"How is Granger?" he kept his sentence short

"Better thanks, looks like he may regain consciousness anytime soon"

"That's good news." The men had reached the elevator doors and Don pushed the button to call it. He turned and looked Edgerton straight in the eye.

"So he saw this guy and got took a shot at him? Do you think he saw the gun?"

"I don't doubt it, he saw it and realised that there were a lot of people about to get hurt from a direction no one was expecting. Would you have expected any less of Granger?" Edgerton asked. Don looked at him and ran his hand through his hair as he responded. "The guy, I dunno, I, I think sometimes that he is either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid." Ian looked around the room before he spoke.

"I don't want this broadcast but I know a few people who served with Granger in Afghanistan and they have some tales to tell about your agent" At this Don took a step back from the sniper and frowned.

"Relax" said Edgerton, watching Don's response. "Opinion is overwhelmingly positive. Seems he has put his neck his neck on the line a few times whilst over there and some people owe their continuing ability to breathe down to Granger. One said he seemed to have an uncanny sixth sense for when things weren't right. Honestly," he smiled at Eppes, "I'd want Granger covering my back any day."

"How come you've never told him, or for that matter us any of this?" Don asked, a little surprised at the normally detached agent's warm report of Granger.

"What, and embarrass the guy? What happens in the army usually stays in the army, especially in combat. It stays amongst the people involved. Men like Granger don't want to be held up as all American heroes, they just wanna get the job done and for everyone to come home safe".

Don smiled at the other agent as the doors pinged opened. He stepped inside and pushed the button to hold them open.

"Wanna come for a ride?" he asked Edgerton. "I'm headed to the South African Consulate and could use the company." There was a brief moment when neither man spoke and then with his customary coolness Edgerton shrugged and then stepped into the elevator to stand by Eppes. Without looking at him Ian simply said,

"So long as I get to drive."

"No way buddy" Don laughed as the door closed.


	9. The Consulate

The South African consulate was an imposing building set back from the main hustle and bustle of the street. They checked their weapons at the gate and then Eppes and Edgerton headed into reception. To their surprise, a brief conversation with the receptionist, accompanied with the flashing of badges had them admitted into the core of the building in a matter of minutes.

"Do you get the impression that they were expecting us?" Don asked Edgerton as they followed a tall, well dressed woman into a panelled room.

"Could be" Edgerton wandered round the room, inspecting the walls, windows and door checking out possible exit routes. A door on the far side of the room clicked open and the well dressed woman gestured for them to follow her through.

To his shock and horror, Don found himself across a desk from Kurt de Villiers, currently wanted in connection with the running of a meth lab and the attempted murder of a federal agent. He summoned up all his self control to stop himself from leaping across the desk and punching the guy in face. De Villiers was dressed smartly in a business suit and tie. He would have been the very model of a bureaucrat if it wasn't for his sheer size, his bulk making Colby look tiny by comparison.

"Please, have a seat" he gestured at some plush leather chairs between the agents and the desk. Don glared at him for a moment without moving. Edgerton sat down and leaned back in the chair, his body language and facial expression relaxed, the perfect contrast to Eppes'pent up rage. No one spoke for a moment, the men all eyeing each other up. It was Don who broke the silence first.

"You running a little business off the clock, is that it?" To his surprise de Villiers smiled.

"Agent Eppes, things are very rarely as simple as they seem. You are an experienced agent, you should know that."

"What I know is that you and your cronies are going away for a long time. You and your partner Van de Bergh shot a federal agent." He almost spat it out he was so angry.

"I am sorry about Agent Granger but it was unavoidable. I couldn't risk him exposing my presence at the arrests. I've worked too long and hard to get where I am are to let anything get in the way. In any war there is unfortunate collateral damage bru."

"What?" Don walked up to the desk and leaned across until he was face to face with the consulate official. De Villiers didn't flinch, he hardly even blinked Edgerton noticed. "Collateral damage? Is that what you call it? Well, here pal we call it attempted murder!"

"I do what I need to do to protect my country. We are a fledgling democracy and like any parent bird I will protect it until it is strong enough to fly"

"South Africa is hardly a new democracy" Edgerton noted.

"Edgerton right? Your reputation proceeds you. I've studied some of your work and I must admit to being very impressed. No, South Africa is a new democracy in many ways and there are those inside and outside our borders who would like to see a return to the old ways."

"The apartheid system right?" Edgerton leaned in closer, this was getting interesting.

"Exactly, the white supremacists have spread their influence far and wide and are actively working for a return to the old ways. We can't have that." He paused as he seemed to weigh up something in his mind.

"I am sorry about Agent Granger but I can't reveal too much about our current operations here. Let's just say that I am trying to work my way to the centre of a large operation that generates funds for our domestic terrorists. Your raid the other night has set me back quite considerably as they have all squirreled themselves away until the dust settles. Whilst I am not willing to divulge the details of our operations here, I can tell you why your agent was shot; you deserve to know what happened. I know how distressing it can be to lose personnel"

Neither Don nor Edgerton said anything; Don glared at the big South African whilst Edgerton just looked at him, no expression apparent on his face.

"I was with Van de Bergh. He had seen the African American agent and being what he was he wanted to put a bullet in his back." De Villiers gaze was unwavering as he spoke to the two men. "He pulled the curtain back for a clearer shot and that movement was spotted by your man. He turned and got a shot off at Van de Bergh. I had to shoot him to look like I was protecting Van de Bergh. His actions saved the other agent and probably his own; dodging the bullet knocked my aim off, other wise it would have gone through his skull, not his jacket."

"_You_ shot Granger?" Don asked incredulous. On seeing de Villiers behind the desk, he had started to think that it was Van de Bergh that had pulled the trigger.

"What would you have me do? Three years of work would have been utterly destroyed because I tried to save a "kaffir" as Van de Bergh so delightfully called your other agent No, I'm sorry. This is a war and there are more lives at stake that of your agents."

Don backed away from the South African and turned to look at Edgerton as his mind grappled with what he had just heard.

"You can forget about arresting me, bru. I understand it is frustrating but I have diplomatic immunity." Don rounded on him, fury blazing in his eyes.

"No, you can forget thinking that you are going to get away with this buddy. You shot a federal agent in the course of his duty and I don't care about your immunity, your fledgling democracy or your internal terrorist problems. You shot one of _my_ men on _American_ soil. You can't just play out your political games on American soil and think that you can get away with it!"

"And you are stood on South African soil my friend. It is time you left." De Villiers stood up. "My secretary will show you the way out and you may collect your firearms from the security detail at the front gate. We are done here"

"No, we are a long way from being done" Don jabbed a finger at De Villiers as he spoke. "When we meet again it will be to put your ass in jail" and with that Don stormed out of the room. Edgerton rose slowly and casually. He nodded at De Villiers and then followed Don out into the corridor.

Back in the car the two men sat in silence for some time. Edgerton could literally see the steam coming out of the senior agent's ears and decided it was wiser to leave him to calm down. Eventually Don calmed down enough to speak,

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

"We know where to find him now. He'll be easier to track and keep tabs on. He may eventually lead us to Van de Bergh."

"De Bergh didn't put Colby in the hospital."

An uncomfortable silence settled on the two men again. Edgerton looked out of the window and watched the street pass by for a while.

"I'm pretty sure that the guy is South African special ops. He is well informed and packing a little too much muscle for a career diplomat." He paused. When he spoke again his voice was quieter. "I think he lied. I get the impression that if he wanted to put a hole in Granger's head, he would have done it, bullet dodging or not. He doesn't strike me as the clumsy type. It was risky shot but one I think that he thought would look authentic enough to dispel any doubts the people he is after might have had. Lower chest GSW, away from the heart and main body of the lungs." Don grunted in agreement but said nothing else.

"What are you going to tell Sinclair?" Ian asked eventually.

"God, I hadn't thought that far" Don raised his hands in exasperation. "Hey David, a racist SOB tried to put a bullet in your back only Colby saw what was about to go down and saved your life." He sagged in his seat. "De Villiers is right, we can't touch him. He shot Colby, whether he was aiming to kill him or not is irrelevant, and he will get away with it and there isn't a damn thing we can do." He turned the key in the ignition and put the car into drive. "Time to talk to the DOJ, see what diplomatic strings we can pull."

Colby rose to the surface of sleep and opened his eyes. The room was quiet, the lighting subdued. He turned his head and saw a monitor at his bedside, it was still tracing his heart beat with its pulsing light but the audio monitor had been turned off to let him sleep. He turned his head to the other side and saw an empty chair at his bed side. A woman's jacket was slung over the back of it and he thought that he vaguely recognised it. A small movement by the window caught his attention and he turned his head to see what it was. A tall woman was stood staring out through the glass.

"Mom?" Colby was surprised at how weak his voice sounded. Alicia spun round at the sound of her son's voice.

"Colby! Alan, Colby is awake." She rushed to her boy's side and took his hand.

"Water" Colby managed to gasp. His mouth was so dry.

"Of course honey." She lifted her head to speak to someone on the other side of the room. To Colby's astonishment Alan Eppes appeared at her side.

"I'll get ice chips" and then he disappeared again.

"Oh baby, how are you? How are you feeling? I've been so worried." His mother gushed, a small tear of relief falling down her cheek. Colby's own eyes reddened as guilt washed over him for frightening his mom. He pulled his hand out of hers and placed it flat on the bed at chest height. As he pushed to sit upright a stabbing pain tore through his chest, leaving him gasping for air. Alicia put a firm hand on his shoulder and gently pushed her son back towards the bed.

"Don't try to move, sweetheart. You've been hurt and you need time to heal."

Colby closed his eyes and focussed on the pain in his chest. As it slowly subsided he began to piece together what had happened. He remembered the raid on the meth lab, the curtain moving, the gun pointing towards them but try as he might he couldn't remember anything beyond that. He guessed that he must have been shot and judging by the site of the pain it was a chest shot. He opened his eyes to see his mother accepting a cup of ice chips from Alan Eppes. As he gratefully sucked on the chips, feeling his mouth moisten again he looked at Alan.

"The team?" he whispered. God, it even hurt to talk.

"They're all good, all safe Colby, no need to worry. Don and David said they would stop by tonight." Typical of the man thought Alan. He hasn't asked about what happened to him, more worried about his friends. Colby's mother leaned in closer to inspect her son; she could see that his green eyes were filled with pain.

"Do you need something for the pain?" she asked. Colby shook his head little. "What happened?" He asked finally.

Alan and Alicia exchanged glances and Alan stepped closer to the bed. Alicia gripped her son's hand a little harder as Alan spoke.

"You got shot son. You were with Donnie and the team at some sort of meth lab and there was a lot of gunfire…" he let his voice trail off. Colby was confused. How had he got shot in the chest when he had been wearing Kevlar? He remembered putting it on before they had headed out. Alan saw the younger man's confusion.

"They had armour piercing rounds. It went straight through your jacket."

Colby grimaced as pain shot through his chest. He closed his eyes and waited for it to settle. When he opened them again he could see the faces of his mother and his boss's father looking down at him, concern written all over them. He smiled weakly at them both.

"It's OK, it just hurts a little." Alicia reached up and stroked her son's head. The reassuring touch of his mother seemed to settle him. He closed his eyes and let the comforting warmth of her hand wash over him. Soon, he was asleep again.

Alicia looked across at Alan as her son relaxed into sleep.

"Thank you…" she began but Alan cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"It's nothing. Remember, I have a boy of my own in the FBI and everyday I pray that I don't end up holding his hand in a hospital bed. It is the nature of what they do. It is dangerous and leaves me in a cold sweat some nights but I don't think that they would swap it for anything. It is just the kind of men that they are" Alicia nodded and smiled. Alan couldn't help noticing that when she smiled it lit up her whole face. Mentally, he chastised himself, her son was lying in a hospital bed having just woken from a coma and he was eyeing her up! He went to get his coat.

"I'll. I'll get some coffee and something to eat from the deli down the street. The food here is just terrible" he stuttered, aware that he was going red. To his relief, Alicia was too preoccupied with her son to notice. Alan stepped out into the corridor and hurried off before he embarrassed himself anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

Charlie looked up from his lap top as Don and Ian entered the bull pen. Megan smiled as she saw Charlie's head move, the two brothers were a lot closer than they would ever admit or even possibly realise, she noted. They seemed to have that sixth sense that only very close siblings possessed, seeming to know when the other was around without having to see or hear them. Charlie leapt out of his seat and hurried over to his older brother, lap top in hand. Megan could see the enthusiasm in his eyes as he explained something to Don, forever seeking approval from his older brother. Don took the lap op out of his hands and read the screen. He looked up at Charlie, a look of surprise on his face. Her curiosity aroused, Megan walked over to the Eppes brothers.

"Anything interesting?" she gestured towards the computer with her head.

"Sure" replied Charlie as he took the lap top from Don and handed it to her, "I took a look at the accounts downloaded from the computer found at the meth house." Megan scanned down the screen, trying to make sense of the spreadsheet in front her. She knew that a Professor Talk was impending and was just grateful that she didn't have any food or drink on her at that moment.

"Go on then, I'll bite" she looked up at the eager face of the maths genius as she handed the computer back.

"Well, the money that they were making from what they making in that house was huge."

"We know that it was open for quite sometime Charlie, stands to reason that it would have made a lot of money in that time" As Megan offered this alternative explanation, she knew that Charlie would already have a response.

"Most meth houses are open for a short amount of time. They are either raided by the authorities, shut down by rival chemists or, in some cases, they blow up. They aren't renown for their longevity so to speak. This house was running for almost two years."

"Charlie, we know all this already." Don found himself pushing his brother to get to the point yet again.

"Yes, but these figures" Charlie gestured towards the screen, "show that they were making and selling massive quantities. No one tried to shut them down, and so on, so they traded, unimpeded for almost two years, so not only did they have a steady reputation but they also had the opportunity to accrue enormous sums of money but now the accounts have been frozen by the FBI"

"Which means that someone is going to be missing a steady income."

"The order for the weapons will have already gone in." Edgerton spoke for the first time since entering the bull pen. Charlie and Megan looked at the tow agents.

"What's this?" asked Megan. Don quickly filled them in on the events at the South African consulate.

"Which means that Van de Burgh needs money in a hurry. He may be panicking"

"Or to disappear in a hurry."

"Whatever, he is going to be very angry" At that moment Liz and Sinclair burst through the doors.

"Simpson is dead" David stated as he approached the others. "GSW to the head and chest, execution style, looks like the meth house gang are turning on each other since we cut them loose."

"Looks like angry is the emotion of the moment" Edgerton noted dryly.

"All my bloody money, gone! The Brits have contacted me, the shipment is ready and they are not going to be happy when I breeze in and tell them when we don't have the money" Van de Burgh kicked the table he was standing in front of across the room. De Villiers looked on dispassionately his head tilted slightly to one side as his companion raged on

"I'm heading home, but I have to clean up this mess before I go. I have a reputation to uphold." He paused for a moment, "No, Christ, salvage." He face was twisted in a snarl as he spoke. "This could ruin me. Us." De Villiers waited for a moment before he said anything and when he did speak, his words were carefully chosen. He sensed that Van de Burgh was teetering on the edge and he had no wish to push him over.

"You've dealt with the Brotherhood. Our clients will appreciate that you clean up any messes bru. Perhaps our clients, whoever they are, will take some solace in that. They have to appreciate that in this business, these things happen." Van de Burgh spun round to face De Villiers, his face flushed with rage.

"Solace? This is a catastrophe. I put too much into that house, I see that now, I should have diversified, two years was too good to be true." He paused at rubbed his eyes. "We are finished in LA. And it was such a gold mine. We need to make sure that we walk out of this with our reputation intact, we need to show that we mean business."

"What else is there to mop up? The Brotherhood that ran the house are dead. The Feds have no where else to look, we made sure of that."

"One last thing. The FBI. A little retribution will pay dividends to our rep at home."

"De Villiers straightened up. "Don't be a fool bru. You go after them and you will bring seven types of hell down on our heads. There is no way that we will walk out of a fire fight with the Feds alive. "

"Think straight man. They have a weak spot at the moment. It's time to exploit it."

"Mom, I'm fine." Colby managed to grin weakly at his mother. He was still in a lot of pain and was finding it hard to move around. Even small movements felt like new holes were being torn in his side but he could see that his mother was exhausted; she needed a good meal and a decent night's sleep. Alicia smiled back at her boy; she was pleased to see that although the colour had yet to return to his cheeks, the old Granger sparkle was back in his eye. Inwardly she sighed, that sparkle was what had attracted her to his father all those years ago. She wondered if somewhere, Colby's father could see what a fine man their son had turned into. She felt a lump rise in her throat and turned her head away before Colby noticed.

Alan saw Alicia turn, tears welling up in her eyes. Unsure what to do he decided that some action, no matter how misguided was probably better than none. He stepped up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder,

"I think your son is trying to tell you that he can cope for a few hours whilst you get some rest. Come on, I'll drive you home" Alicia hesitated for a moment and then relented, she nodded and rose to gather her belongings. He saw Colby sag with relief. He looked sternly at the FBI agent.

"And you, young man, take it easy." He slung his coat over his arm and headed for the door. As he opened it he turned and spoke to Alicia.

"I'll be just outside when you are ready."

Alicia Granger turned to her son and absentmindedly brushed a stray hair off his forehead as she spoke.

"Is there anything I can get for you honey? Would you like something to read, or listen to?" She smoothed down the sheets on his bed. "I'll only be a few hours, just get some sleep and before you know it I'll be back."

"Where are you staying Mom?" It occurred to Colby that he had no idea where his Mom was based. To his surprise she blushed.

"Oh, er, Mr Eppes has very kindly put me up…"

"That's good; I don't want you staying at some hotel." He winced as pain shot across his chest. He raised a shaky hand to ward off any fussing "I'm fine, I just need some rest"

"Well…OK." She bent and kissed him on the forehead. "Sleep well sweetheart" and then she left, closing the door quietly behind her. Colby lay listening to the muffled sounds of the hospital, relishing the fact that for the first time since he had woken up he was alone. No need to act brave, smile at people or even stay awake. He closed his eyes and let the quiet and solitude draw him into a deep sleep.


	11. The Race

De Villiers sat quietly at his desk, his eyes flicking across the computer screen in front of him as he watched the live satellite feed. The picture was grainy but he could see make out the figures moving in on the glowing white figures grouped together at the centre of the picture. He watched silently for a few more minutes and then clicked the mouse to shut the image on the computer down. He turned and looked out of the window for a moment lost in thought, as though trying to come to decision. Finally, he smiled ruefully to himself and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket; flicking it open he pushed a number and waited for the other end of the line to answer.

Edgerton walked into the bull pen with two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. He handed one to Don and took a tentative sip from the other. Don grabbed the cup with one hand, in his other he held a manila file with a picture of the young Brotherhood member Simpson clipped to the outside edge. He took a sip of the coffee and grimaced.

"Fourth best shot you may be but your coffee could probably kill more people!" Edgerton just shrugged and carried on drinking.

"This guy Simpson was wanted in Nevada for…." Don was waving the file as he spoke but he was cut off by the sound of his cell. With a sigh he tossed the file onto his desk and flipped open his phone.

"Eppes" Edgerton watched as Don said nothing, only listened. Skilled at reading people, he abandoned his coffee and grabbed his coat from a chair by Don's desk. He nodded tersely to Reeves and Sinclair who were on the other side of the bull pen and they hurried over. Don snapped his phone shut and looked at his team.

"That was De Villiers"

"The guy who shot Colby" Sinclair stated simply.

"Things may not be what they seem. Where's Charlie?" Don looked around the room but there was no sign of his brother. He shifted his position for a better look and Megan, sensing the sudden tension in her boss looked across at the others who all looked equally puzzled.

"He went back to CalSci" she said.

"Megan, Ian, I want you to go and stay with him. Keep an eye on him. De Villiers says that when he last spoke to Van de Burgh, he was spouting some crap about how he could get back at the FBI something about , uh…exploiting a weakness"

"Don, Charlie isn't the weak spot in the team and anyway, does Van de Burgh even know about Charlie?" Megan protested. Don stopped to consider what Megan had said. He didn't feel guilty about his assumption, he was only too aware that that was how some people saw his little brother and it brought all his protective instincts to the surface. He also knew that men like Van de Burgh knew exactly where to apply pressure; their business and sometimes lives depended on it.

"Colby!" it was Sinclair voice that cut across Don's thoughts as he that blurted out his partner's name. "Van de Burgh may know that he isn't dead." He was grabbing his coat and his keys as he spoke. Don nodded

"Megan and Ian, I still want you to head over to Charlie's, just to be sure, I wouldnt put anything past these guys. He looked at Sinclair, "let's go"

The car ride to the hospital seemed to take far too long. David found himself leaning forward in his seat as his boss weaved in and out of traffic, siren's wailing. He dialled Alan Eppes, hoping to catch his boss's father, warn him if neceassary. Alan answered after the third ring.

"Alan, it's David Sinclair. Where are you?"

"I'm at the house with Alicia. Is there a problem?" David looked across at Don and nodded reassuringly. He knew his boss was worried that his father would get caught in the cross fire. He could see Don's shoulders relax a little. "No, no, everything is fine. I'll speak to you later" Don pulled into the hospital and just about drove into the lobby, abandoning the SUV at the bottom of the entrance steps. The pair dashed in and ran for the elevators, by some miracle one pinged open almost instantly. They dived inside and pulled their guns as the doors closed.

The click of his room door rose Colby from the depths of sleep. He murmured and then opened his eyes, expecting to see his mother or Alan back in the room. As he turned his head he saw a figure in scrubs pushing a syringe into his drip bag. Looking at the clock, he frowned, it wasn't time for any pain meds and he was keen to keep to the schedule, hoping to start to reduce the medication he was taking. He went to lift the arm of his good side to tap the medic but to his horror to would only move a little way. He snapped his head round and saw that he was handcuffed by the wrist to the rail of the bed. He shook it furiously a few times, ignoring the pain in his side.

"What the hell is going on?" he snapped at the doctor who had finished, although he left the needle hanging in the bag. As he turned to face Colby, the FBI agent went cold, he knew that face. He tried to sit up, swing his legs out of bed but the man who had put him into the bed in the first place pushed him back onto the mattress.

"You and your friends have caused me a lot of problems. Nothing I can't make my way back from but I will admit that it is a set back. You meddled where you shoudn't"

Colby coughed out a short laugh. "Next you will be saying that we are pesky, meddling kids"

Van de Burgh pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. He leaned in towards Colby.

"Now, you have to understand that this is business, it is nothing personal. But I need to take some action that will buy me back some kudos and the death of an FBI agent will do nicely."

"What have you done?" Colby was feeling drowsy. Whatever the South African had injected into him was starting to take effect.

"Oh, that? Nothing. A harmless sedative to keep you quiet. You're a big man and I think that without it you may have been difficult to handle, injured or not."

"I know you. You're the one that shot me" Colby could hear that his words were slurred and his voice sounded far away. Van de Burgh nodded.

"I didn't kill you then but I do like to see a job through, bru."

"You can get therapy for OCDs like that" Colby was hanging on but he could feel the room slipping away.

Van de Burgh pulled a large hunting knife and a handgun out of a bag he had set on the floor. As the South African placed the knife on the bed covers, Colby's eyes widened in fear. He pulled half heartedly at the handcuffs but he could feel his strength was deserting him. He was frantically fighting sleep but despite his efforts the edges of the room were turning black. He opened his mouth to call for help. Van de Burgh saw what he was about to do and clamped a hand over it. With his other hand he pressed hard onto the bullet wound, ripping stitches and tearing skin as he did so. Pain screamed through Granger but it was mercifully cut short as he blacked out, the combination of the drugs and the pain finally seizing him and dragging him down into darkness.

Don and Sinclair raced along the corridor, Don ran to the nursing station, whilst David kept going to Colby's room. He glanced in through the window before he burst through the door. The doctor sitting in the chair next to Colby leapt to his feet. Maybe David was in time. Maybe it was not about Colby at all. He did a quick sweep of the room and then lowered his weapon. He put one hand up to reassure the startled doctor.

"Sorry. Has else anyone been in here?"

Van de Burgh shrugged, afraid that his accent would give him away. He almost felt sorry for the agent standing in front of him seeing the relief on his face. David took a step towards his partner's bedside. His sixth sense was tingling, something was out of place, something was wrong. Then he saw it, the syringe hanging out of Colby's drip. He turned to see that Van de Burgh had seen it too, the South African was already lifting his gun to shoot David but Sinclair was faster, his actions given speed by the rage, desperation and frustration he had felt since Van de Burgh's bullet had smashed into his partner. He fired two shots in quick succession, the force of the bullets throwing Van de Burgh backwards and away from the bed, killing him before he even hit the floor. Don smashed through the door, gun raised. Sinclair glanced behind him and nodded, keeping his boss covered whilst Don went over and kicked the gun away from the still figure on the floor, keeping his trained on him all the time. Don bent and felt for a pulse. He was stil for a moment then finally he straightened up.

"He's dead." Pushing his gun back into its holster he turned attention to his agent in the hospital bed. David was already outside yelling for help. A doctor came in and pulled the syringe out of the bag and looked at it. He turned to the two agents, holding up the instrument.

"Do you know what was in this?" He demanded. They both shook their heads.

"Talk to him. Say anything. I'm going to find out what was in this." He pulled back the sheets before he went and looked at the bullet wound.

"No real damage. It's superficial" and with that he swept out of the room.

"Colby? C'mon man, not again." Don had gripped the younger agent's face and was shaking it a little to try to elicit a response.


	12. Final Moves

The doctor burst through the door whilst Don was still talking to Colby. He was red in the face and clearly out of breath, bracing his hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath. There was clearly relief on his face. David took a step towards him but he waved him away with his left hand.

"Lab ran a very quick analysis, it's not cast iron but they think that it was a sedative, usually used in pre op. Harmless when given in the correct dose." He straightened up, stretching out his back as he bent backwards slightly, grimacing as he did so. Sinclair looked across at Don and raised his eyebrows. Don looked at the junior agent and then back at Granger's pale face.

"What if it wasn't given in the right dose?" he asked, moving his hand to Colby's neck, searching for his pulse. The doctor stopped and stood upright for the briefest of moments then he ran across to the monitors. He pressed a few buttons and then stood back and watched the readouts. A few seconds later he was reaching across Don and pushing the emergency call button on the wall above Colby's bed.

"What's going on?" Don demanded as he was pushed to one side.

"His heart beat is irregular; it's struggling against the sedative. That guy must have given him too much, didn't know what he was doing. It's not enough to kill him outright straight away but if we don't get his heart beating normally again he will go into full arrest." The crash team came bursting in through the door, living up to their nickname as the door bounced back on its hinges. There was a lot of bustling round Granger's bed as lines were taken out and new ones added. Nurses and doctors shifted and swapped positions, never bumping into each other, always managing to find space to work in such a small area. In the midst of all the chaos Don and David stood, a small, still island as everything else around them flowed. David couldn't speak for Don but he felt that time had stopped in the space where he was standing and had somehow captured the moment where his partner and friend was still alive He didn't want to look or move. For some reason Charlie's story of Schrödinger's cat came to mind. He supposed it was because at this exact moment Colby was both alive and dead. If he moved, the bubble would burst and Colby would die right there in front of him. If he could have read Don's mind, he would have taken little comfort from the fact that his boss was also feeling trapped, not by time but by history. The scene in front of him was all too reminiscent of the freighter when they had pulled Colby back from the brink. His greatest fear was that though they had cheated death that time, it would not be denied now, not when the circumstances were so similar.

The shrill ringing of a phone in the corner of the room simultaneously wrenched both men back to the awful reality being played out in front of them. They watched as the doctor nodded and then thanked whoever was on the end of the phone. He put the receiver back into its cradle and yelled something -incomprehensible to the FBI-to the medical team at the bed. There was a change in movement. Some people stepped back, others moved closer. Hands were busy passing things over Granger's inert figure; syringes, bottles, swabs. One of the green clad figures moved to one side briefly allowing both men a glimpse of what was happening. A long, thin needle, attached to a syringe was being fed into Colby's chest. Neither agent could be sure but it seemed like it was going directly into Granger's heart. Don closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. David simply turned his head away again.

A groan from the bed grabbed both men's attention. The doctor turned briefly and nodded and smiled at them. Don's stomach seemed to launch itself into his chest as he saw Colby open his eyes. He and David raced the bedside, unconsciously elbowing a male nurse put of the way as they did. David grabbed Colby's hand and looked straight at him.

"Where the hell you been man?" He was amazed at how quickly his partner had recovered his colour and some of his strength.

Colby managed a lopsided smile and then a frown flitted across his features, he turned his head to scan the room and then looked at David.

"I had to save your ass, Idaho." He jerked his head to indicate the dead South African who lay on the floor, almost forgotten in the rush to save Colby's life. Don looked across at the dead man. His blood had pooled on the floor and was slowly creeping towards Don's shoes, almost like one last attempt after death to reach him, soil him with its presence. He easily stepped out of the way and turned his back on Van de Burgh for the last time. The doctor approached him to explain what had happened but Don waved a weary hand at the man. Whatever it was it could wait, he only had one question he wanted answering.

"Will he be OK?" The doctor hesitated, still keen to explain the mechanics of what had happened but he stopped and kept his response simply, sensing that the FBI agent had probably had as much as he could take for one night.

"Most definitely yes. He is in good shape with a strong heart. There should be no lasting effects." Don patted him on the shoulder

"Thanks." He crossed the short distance to the bed and grinned at Colby.

"Seems you are a hard man to put down. Listen, I gotta take care of all of this. I'll drop by later to see you, maybe bring some grapes, whaddya say?" and with a broad smile on his face he left the two men talking about what had happened, David filling Colby in on the details.

De Villiers sensed Don Eppes' presence before he actually saw him; after all, it was a skill that had kept him alive for so many years. He addressed the FBI agent from behind his newspaper.

"Appears you got your man eh? The FBI legend holds true."

"I'm pretty sure that's the mounties" Don sat in the seat next to him and looked across him at the view out of the window. On the tarmac below, the private jet's pilot was doing one last visual check before take off.

"You lied to me. That could have cost you your life" De Villiers put down his newspaper and looked at Eppes. His blue eyes never wavered for a moment.

"I don't have the luxury of being able to use the truth. If I had told you that it was Van de Burgh that shot your man you would have pushed him deep underground and he might not have surfaced for a long time. You might have even got lucky and killed him and where would have that left me? With my arse hanging out in the breeze my friend that is where." Don said nothing; he simply sat matching the diplomats stare.

"Ahh look," De Villiers crumpled his paper shut and set it down on the small table in front of him. "I have big fish to fry, I'm trying to save my country, I hooked up with Van de Burgh long enough to get his contacts. Some careful ground work I can shut these idiots down and then move onto the rest"

Don sat in silence for a moment and then leaned in, his eyes never leaving the big South African's.

"Listen up, you may get to fly out of here, waving your diplomatic immunity at people, the hero of the hour, but one of my men almost died because of your operation, the details of which, in your report, are vague to say the least. Stay away. I appreciate what you did for Colby, warning us about Van de Burgh but I swear, this whole mess lies at your feet and if I ever see your face in LA again, I will personally take a very keen interest in your movements." He glared at De Villiers for a few more seconds and then rose out of the seat and walked to the aircraft door, half expecting De Villiers to say something. He reached for his sunglasses that were tucked into the top of his t shirt, put them on and stepped into the brilliant sunshine of a beautiful Californian day. His cell rang as he walked casually down the steps. As he answered he turned and saw De Villiers standing at the door. The diplomat smiled and waved and then retreated back into the gloom of the aircraft's interior. Don shook his head and then carried on walking down and then across the tarmac

"Yeah, Charlie what is it? No, I have no dinner plans, I thought you and Dad were eating out tonight. What, he's taking her out again?" The rest of Don's voice was drowned out as the private jet started up her engines. By the time she began to taxi away from the stand, Don was gone.


End file.
